


begot of nothing(but vain fantasy)

by bossassmx



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, F/M, Foster Care, Found Family, M/M, but with magic, but yeah uhhh, if ur not like my friends idk why ur reading this rip, legit this is like au fanfiction of my campaign lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-06-29 15:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15731928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bossassmx/pseuds/bossassmx
Summary: this is fanfiction for me and my friends' dnd campaign that just ended. lmao.





	1. Chapter 1

          Callithia sat absentmindedly in the car, watching passing cars with a glassy vision. Her fingers were skimming over her beat-up suitcase resting on the car seat next to her. With the erratic movement of the car, she had to take extra care that it stayed secure. Inside the poor excuse for a suitcase was everything in all the planes that she owned. Her camera and small laptop were wrapped in her clothes as an extra measure of protection. (Actually she had that small switchblade, but that was hidden in her bra and barely counted.) Other than that, Callie had nothing else to her name.

          A sudden jolt of the car brought her back to the present. A head, peppered with grey and black hairs, peered back at his charge.

          “You doing okay, Callie?” Asmodeus asked, a momentary grin filling his lips, as he attempted to watch over his passenger while keeping a view of the road ahead of him.

          She offered a noncommittal grunt and continued to stare out the window. Her social worker was a very friendly man, but that hadn’t stopped him from placing her in some shitty group homes in the past years. Callie wasn’t one to hold grudges, but she also wasn’t one to make polite small talk if she didn’t need to.  
“You’re not worried about this new place, are you?” he continued, his tone growing more chipper and forced. “Everything about it sounds great! There are other troubled kids there like you and from what I’ve heard they all doing great!”

          Then after a couple seconds of consideration, he continued.

          “Well, I mean no one is perfect and there have been some issues, so I’ve heard, but I’m sure you’ll fit in fine!”

          Callie chose not to answer, instead, taking note of the new neighborhood the red Subaru was entering.

          Less _potholes_ , was the first thing that came to mind, as the drive began to grow smoother. It was a good sign; A better neighborhood usually meant richer guardians with fewer restrictions, who were only fostering kids to feel better about themselves. Callie had spent a few months with some vegan stoner who hadn’t even noticed that she didn’t go to school before she got caught stealing. Considering the places she had lived so far, that was one of the best homes she’d been placed at.

          It was only temporary, reminded that nagging voice in her head. Even if you hadn’t been arrested, you still would’ve been kicked out for something. Nobody wants all your baggage.

          “Callie?”

          Asmodeus’ voice broke through her inner monologue.

          Callie looked up slowly, pulling on her cool facade as if she had merely been ignoring the man, rather than surprised in the middle of throwing a childish fit in her head.

          “Yeah? What’s up, man?” she asked, instinctually tugging at the left sleeve of her jacket. That’s when she noticed that the car was stopped. “Oh shit, we’re already here?”

          Looking out her window, Callie found the street strangely empty. She grabbed her suitcase and opened the door. The moment of exiting Asmodeus’ car was practically a custom by this point and one that she expected to experience again soon. Since her first foster home, she hadn’t spent longer than half a year with anyone. Still, she was reluctant to give up the one sense of familiarity that had followed her for the past four years. Regardless, she got out of the car. Even though Asmodeus was pretty good for a social worker(Callie had heard horror stories from other kids that she’d stayed with before), she knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to call for backup if she started resisting and Callie was in no way interested in visiting juvie again.

          Asmodeus shut the car door behind her and placed a large hand on her shoulder. Callie wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be comforting or some sort of warning against running. Either way, it just ended up feeling irritating. She shrugged off her warden’s restraint and warily eyed her surroundings.  
The scratched-up Subaru, which looked very out of place in the neat suburbs, was parked in front of an ancient stone structure. Its walls spanned across the entire block and were overlaid with tangles of vines of lush ivy. Two pillars marked an entranceway, through which a stone-tiled path led. It eventually gave way to a small, wooden building, with an age-worn door. The windows were covered by translucent sheets of some kind of paper-looking substance. From the outside, Callie could see moving shadows cast on the windows.

          “Come on, Callithia,” Asmodeus urged, interrupting her cautious scan of the area.

          Before she had the chance to hesitate any longer, he gently shoved her forward, as he starting walking down the path.

          Callie almost stumbled, but caught herself, hoping that whoever was inside hadn’t seen. She lingered a couple steps behind Asmodeus, so as not to seem too enthusiastic, but followed nevertheless. Once past the entrance, the ivy was joined by tall stalks of some yellow grass Callie couldn’t recognize.  
Upon reaching the door, Asmodeus smartly rapped the wood, only to find it opened almost immediately in his face. An Asian teenager stared back at him, face colored with confusion before he caught sight of Callie.

          “Oh hi!” he exclaimed, taking a step back. “I’ve been waiting for the new kid to arrive, but I just saw you and I got confused because I was like, ‘I don’t think this person is a teenager,’ but then it’s like you shouldn’t really judge people, because like everyone’s going through stuff, but again it’s like you do kinda look like an adult and you do have a kinda like angry face and I was just a little nervous-not that I’m not nervous all the time, but-”

          “Please stop,” Asmodeus commanded, cutting off the boy’s rambling. “Where is. . .” He paused, furrowing his brows. “Mr. Marrowlin?”

          The boy flushed and, running a hand through his hair, said, “Oh he’s a bit preoccupied at the moment. . .” He looked back into the house, then continued. “I’m sure he’ll be out in a sec!”

          His voice carried a level of excitement that Callie rarely heard when she was being dropped off at a new home. She couldn’t fathom a reason why one kid would be excited about another, unless. . .

_Ugh, it better not be a crush. I’d crush this kid in an instant._

          Callie softly chuckled to herself at her pun, from her place in Asmodeus’ shadow. Unfortunately, the kid saw.

          “What’s so funny?” he asked, his lanky frame still blocking the doorway.

          “Nothing,” she answered, wiping the grin from her face.

          Asmodeus turned ever so slightly to raise an eyebrow at her. That was his way of telling her to be nicer. Callie just rolled her eyes at him.

          Surprisingly, the boy looked unbothered. He was now awkwardly staring at the two from the corner of his vision, avoiding any direct contact.

          “Son, I’m not allowed to leave Callithia here until I see her new guardian,” Asmodeus said, his voice growing sharp with impatience, a tone that Callie knew quite well.

          Strangely enough, it didn’t seem to fluster the boy. Or at least fluster the boy any more than he had already flustered himself.

          “Well, Bebal is just. . . He’s dealing with another kid right now,” he explained, fingers gripping at the edge of his shirt. His shirt that said in bright, neon pink, “ **CALL THE COPS BECAUSE** I’M **GONNA KILL THIS WORKOUT.** ”

          Callie immediately winced.

          Thankfully, before she was able to make a snide comment, the sound of quick footsteps coming from inside, drew her attention. She dragged her eyes away from the fashion abomination to the newcomer.

          A taller man made his way to the entrance, his long hair mused and held back in a messy ponytail. He wore a stylish, patterned shawl and a warm smile, and extended his hand to Asmodeus.

          “I’m so sorry,” he said, his charm draining away any annoyance the social worker may have had. “We had a bit of a situation back there, you know how it is.”

          Asmodeus nodded and shook the hand. “Of course,” he replied. “I assume that you are Mr. Marrowlin?”

          “Yeah,” he chuckled. “But I like for the kids to just call me Bebal. In fact-”

          Asmodeus cleared his throat and took a step back. “Well, I have a lot to get to, so if you don’t mind, I think I’ll just be-” he started.

          “And this must be Callithia!” Mr. Marrowlin exclaimed, theatrically spreading his arms wide open. Before she could respond, he was already ushering her inside. “Thank you so much, Mr. Nessus. We’ll be sure to take good care of her.”  
And in a matter of moments, the only adult who had been a constant throughout her life was gone, the door was shut behind her, and Callithia was inside a room with two strangers who were entirely too pleasant in a situation that called for few niceties. She instinctively took a step back, one hand on her suitcase, the other resting on the collar of her shirt, just close enough to whip out her knife in a couple seconds.  
Mr. Marrowlin, seeming to sense the apprehension, began talking again.

          “I’ll show you to your room, Callithia. It’s just down-”

          “It’s Callie,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “It’s just Callie.”

          The man smiled, _god did he smile at everything_?, completely unphased. He sent a look, that Callie didn’t understand, to the boy, before continuing.

          “Alright, Callie,” he amended, with a slight smile to his voice. “If you follow me down this hall, I can show you where your room is.”

          When he received no response, he sent a wink to Callie and headed through the hall to the right of the entrance. Almost as an afterthought, he called out,  
“Talem, can you grab her bag?”

          Looking at her new guardian’s retreating form, Callie made eye contact with the boy-with Talem and lifted an eyebrow. Callie was quite proud of how little effort it usually took her to dissuade other people from bothering her, but her new housemate seemed to be incredibly enthusiastic.

          He cautiously moved closer to her, gaze flickering from her bag back to her face, as if he was worried that she might lash out at him. Then again, that was often the effect she had on other people.

          “I can uhhh take your bag,” he offered, still avoiding her eyes.

          “I’m fine, thanks,” Callie responded, making it clear that she was in no way thankful. She held her suitcase a bit tighter and considered her options. Although she was not interested in the rinse and repeat process of getting a new room, Callie was ready to get away from all these new people. She could already feel herself getting anxious and Talem wasn’t helping.

          So without another word in his direction, she exited the room, moving down the hall, maintaining her air of composure: eyes held unfocused and just barely above the ground to look disinterested and a slight sway to the hips for getting across the message of superiority. It had served her faithfully for several years and Callie wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon.

          The floors were a light wood and creaked with age every few steps. The varnish was worn and in the slight lighting, Callie could see the imprints of long walked paths. She resisted the urge to call out to someone, to ask how old the building was. Her father had told her time and time again that her curiosity would bite her in the ass someday.

           _Plus, the less you know, the less attached you’ll get_ , her internal voice added. _We won’t be here for more than two months_.

          She could hear Talem’s footsteps behind her, quick steps, but still far away. Scared of her, but excited. He couldn’t have been a foster kid for more than a year if he was still. . . excitable? Hopeful? Whatever. It wasn’t Callie’s job to care about other kids. Her sole responsibility was to herself and no one else. And that was how she liked it.

          Finally, after turning around the corner, she found herself facing an empty doorway. It was shedding a bright light on the dim floor of the hallway, Mr. Marrowlin’s shadow flickering across the wood. With Talem tailing her, Callie supposed she had no option but to enter. With a sigh, she readied herself and stepped into the room.

          “Oh, hello!” Mr. Marrowlin welcomed, turning away from where he had been straightening bed sheets. He brushed a strand of curly hair out of his face and grinned. “We prepared this room for you. I hope you like it!”

          Callie didn’t say anything, looking at the nicely furnished room. The twin bed looked practically new and across from it was both a wardrobe and a dresser. A small bookshelf was placed at the foot of the bed and stuffed with books with titles in scrawling scripts that Callie couldn’t read.

          Seeing her eyes flicker across the room, he added, “I wasn’t really sure what you’d like, it’s always hard to tell with teenagers these days, but I tried to keep it relatively neutral?”

          Callie just nodded, advancing further into the room.

          There was another one of those windows, not made out of glass, but that strange opaque film. Questions were bubbling to her mind- _What happens when it rains? Are these handmade or made with magic?_ -but they were quickly disregarded.

          “The boys offered some of their books,” Mr. Marrowlin continued. “We’ve got a lot of readers here.”

          Callie wondered what he was still doing there. She finally turned around to look at him. With the filtered sunlight glancing off his dark skin, he looked like a model, with his chiseled features and a twinkle in his eyes. He looked young, not young adult-young, but much too young to be fostering kids. He also wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. As far as she could tell, there weren’t many good reasons for unmarried men to be fostering troubled kids.

          She pursed her lips, placing her free hand on her hip.

          “Cool,” she snarked.

          Mr. Marrowlin was still there. A quick glance to the doorway confirmed that Talem was also around.

          “So. . . Do I get any privacy?"

          It was a simple move, a barely hidden request. It would reveal if he would respect her boundaries and how much sass he was willing to take. Up till this point, Mr. Marrowlin seemed to be a “cool guy,” but even adults could put up masks if they were clever enough.

          But strangely, Mr. Marrowlin sheepishly grinned and headed towards the doorway.

          “I’m sure that moving households can be exhausting. We’ll leave you to your business. C’mon, Talem,” he said, after exiting the room.

          The boy, with an abashed look on his face, awkwardly waved at Callie, before disappearing back behind the wall.

          Their footsteps started to grow quieter before,

          “Dinner’s in a few hours!”

          Then there was silence again.

          Callie let out a sigh of relief and carefully set down her suitcase.

 _Thank the gods,_ that’s _over._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talem

Talem was an optimist, everyone told him so. In fact, practically everyone he’d met had told him that he was too optimistic for who he was. Well, Bebal had never said that. But Bebal happened to be an outlier for most things in Talem’s life. And that was how he liked it.

For the most part, though, Talem didn’t pay much mind to the things that got most people down. He was a happy kid, had been for as long as he could remember. It was hard to find something that could shake his good mood. He had seen plenty of troubled kids come through Bebal’s doors and exit in a better place. Fvelt, one of his foster siblings, who just left for college, had been a nightmare when he first arrived. Talem had only been nine at the time, but the older boy with anger issues and a history of arson, seemed like a villain right out of a Disney movie, until he started to open up. His father had beat him as a child and he would channel his frustration outward. Bebal had made them both hot chocolate and stayed up all night, listening and nodding as Fvelt mumbled through sobs. Talem woke up to find his foster brother asleep in Bebal’s arms and Bebal gently stroking his head. That was when he decided that there was no problem kid that his dad couldn’t fix.   
And yet, this new girl, Callie, made him nervous. She was guarded and even worse, didn’t seem to want anything to do with him. But, if nothing else, Talem was hopeful.

In the doorway, he was already trying to figure out which Disney movies Callie would like the best when he heard,

“Do I get any privacy?”

His first reaction was shock. Bebal had been nothing, but kind. (And Talem knew that he had been so stressed in his last-minute preparations because he had heard Bebal on the phone a week earlier, quietly protesting with some social worker- probably that angry-looking man who had dropped Callie off.) But maybe that was just how Callie was?

His second thought was, Huh, odd. Because she said, “pr- _ih_ \- vacy,” not “pr- _eye_ \- vacy,” as if she had an accent, like the ones he heard on TV sometimes. But she just sounded like most people in Melear, if a bit sharper. 

“C’mon Talem!” Bebal called, leaving the room. He paused, leaning close to whisper, “Maybe let her have some time to herself?”

Talem nodded, then asked, “But what’s her deal?”

Bebal chuckled to himself and kept on walking.

Talem followed, continuing. “Why’d she have to come last minute? And why’s she so angry? And why doesn’t she talk?”

As he reached the kitchen, Bebal turned back to face Talem. He clasped his shoulders and sighed. 

“Look, she’s going to be with us for a month. It’s one of those last minute placements,” he explained, looking more spent than Talem had seen in a while. “I know we’ve helped a lot of kids, but there are always going to be some that we can’t fix. I think Callie might be one of them.” 

“But-” Talem started. 

“Don’t worry too much about it. Whatever happens, we’ll be okay,” Bebal said, before releasing him and moving further into the kitchen. “Do you think she’ll like chicken quesadillas?”

Talem wrinkled his nose. 

_Maybe more Megara than Jasmine?_

“Talem?”

“Oh! She might be lactose intolerant!” 

“Fuck!” 

“Dad! Swear box!” 

“Fuck the swear box!” 

With a laugh, Talem left Bebal to search the pantry, heading towards the other side of the monastery, where the boys’ bedrooms were kept.   
His bedroom was the first one down the hall, had been since he arrived twelve years ago. He was the first kid Bebal had ever fostered. Bebal was all he knew. The doctor he talked to said that he should have some memories- of his parents, of his old house, of anything before he was taken away from them- but before Bebal it was just static. 

Regardless, Talem didn’t like to dwell on the past. He didn’t mind being a foster; It didn’t bother him like it bothered some of his siblings.

Coat’s door was closed, but Talem could hear his music blasting from the room. Talem honestly didn’t understand the loud, angry music, but it was what Coat enjoyed, so he enjoyed it too.

Talem rapped on the door, listening for a response through all the noise. After a couple seconds without a response, he knocked again. Still, there was nothing. He took a deep breath and readied himself. 

“Coat!” he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth, hoping that his housemate could hear. “It’s Talem!” 

As he was opening his mouth to yell again, the door swung open to reveal a large Filipino boy, one thick eyebrow lifted. His glasses were crooked as if he had put them on in a rush, but upon seeing Talem, the teen quickly straightened them. 

“Hey,” Coat greeted, leaning out of the doorway to peer down the hall. “What’s up?”

Talem followed his gaze down the hallway before he caught on. 

“Oh! Callie’s not with me. She’s in the guest room- I mean her room, now,” he added, stumbling over his words. “Basically she’s not here.” 

Coat, after taking another long look, stepped back into his room, followed by Talem, and shut the door behind him. He was wearing an assortment of rings, the one that Talem saw most often, was a golden band with a pearl affixed to it, that Coat was currently fiddling with. He twisted it in some odd combination and suddenly he was flooded with a pale blue light.

Talem shielded his eyes, already knowing what to expect. His brother was a skilled magic-wielder, who was already years ahead of the rest of his class. His teachers always expressed their admiration for Coat’s talent, coupled with strong disappointment for his performance and attention during class. He was already 17, but only in junior year(the same as Talem), because he had spent several years without going to school. When Coat had first arrived at the monastery, he had been almost three years behind, but within a short time, he had quickly passed through multiple classes. Principal De Rolo, though, had refused to let him enter senior year, saying that he wanted Coat to have a more relaxed year. Coat thought it was bullshit, but Talem was just glad that he got to keep his newest sibling for at least a year longer. 

“Umm. . . Talem?” 

That was Coat’s voice. 

“You can, you know, take your hand down now?”

In an awkward moment of realization, Talem realized that his eyes were still shut tight and his hand in front of them. He quickly opened his eyes and pulled his hand down. 

“Sorry!” he chirped, seeing a different Coat, the Coat he’d come to love, in front of him. 

Now, Coat’s skin was rippled with light pink, stretched scars that streaked across his face, neck, and arms. They were healed in the years after the accident, but they left his skin marbled and uneven. Talem knew that the scars continued past his sleeves and covered his back and chest under his coat. Heh. 

“So, what’s Callie like?” Coat asked, sitting down on the floor, leaning against his bed. There were books surrounding him, left open and dog-eared on the ground with messy notes scrawled in the margins. 

“Uh. . . Interesting?” Talem said, taking a seat next to his brother, who had already picked up another book and was rapidly taking notes. “She certainly seems guarded.” 

“Dangerous?”

Talem wrinkled his nose, opening his mouth, then closing it. 

She hadn’t looked particularly like a bodybuilder, but then again, few people assumed that between himself and Coat, he would be the nationally-ranked martial artist. On the other hand, she did seem rather delicate and short, with little-to-no visible muscles. 

“I don’t think so,” he responded, at last. “Maybe just edgy?”

Coat laughed at that. 

“And she’s only staying for a month at most,” Talem added, leaning closer to his brother, trying to get a look at the book he was reading. He only caught a couple words before Coat shut the textbook, something about “ _prices_ ” and “ _exchange_.” 

“No peeking,” Coat teased, tossing the book into the air behind him. It was immediately caught by a flying blur, about the size of a head. With beating wings, Tie flew the tome to the top of one of Coat’s bookshelves. He landed and began to preen his feathers, appearing utterly disinterested in the conversations.   
Talem had never seen a bird before like his brother’s familiar. Tie was a raven whose black coat was mottled with white splotches all across his body. His black, beady eyes always seemed to bear an ominous light and intelligence beyond a creature.

Talem hadn’t ever understood the appeal of familiars nor felt truly comfortable around Tie, but never brought it up. Tie was Coat’s constant companion, the only being that Coat spent more time with than Talem, himself. And familiars really were only for the magically-adept, like Coat was. While Coat’s magic was precise and controlled, Talem’s was more alike to a small explosion whose area and destruction was unable to be predicted, until the entire classroom was already on fire. After his sophomore Intro to Magic class ended in multiple disasters and a school-wide earthquake, he had been excused from any more magic classes till he graduated.   
Coat had made a fuss when that happened. He had only been there for a few months and still in his “make-up” freshman year, but he had strongly protested, even going so far as to break into the principal’s office during a board meeting. Only after he had been threatened with suspension, Coat stopped but spent his spare afternoons trying to pass on at least some of his command. 

Still, Talem didn’t mind that much. Magic had never been particularly easy for him- it felt like it was either locked away or too powerful to hold back- but he enjoyed getting to share more time with his newest sibling. 

They spent a good amount of time chatting about what movies they thought the newest foster would like or their classes, anything to waste the time away. They were in the middle of a joke, something about the twins when there was a knock at the door. 

Coat instantly shifted back, as Talem moved to open the door.

Bebal was standing there, hands on his hips and an apron tied at his waist. 

“Dinner’s ready, guys. Talem, can you call Callie?” he asked, turning back and padding back to the kitchen before he even received a response.

Talem sighed and headed off in the other direction, as he heard Coat’s footsteps follow Bebal. 

He made his way down the hall, trying to keep his footsteps as light as possible. Callie was a stranger, a puzzle piece to this household that Talem wasn’t sure would fit. Despite his happiness and optimism, Talem knew how much of a point that his family balanced upon; He knew how easily it could be upset and even though he enjoyed all the friends he had made through the foster system, he would never risk throwing away his home just for one stranger. 

He knocked on the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)


End file.
